Month: June 2009

Awhile ago, Joni Eareckson Tada featured Holly on her Joni and Friends television program. The special has made its way to YouTube. I thought I would share with you the Beauty whom the Beast could not...

Mr. Summer: I am all done with you. You may be dismissed. Please return to the hellacious inferno from whence you came. Or…did you lose your way? The Sahara is east…waaaay east of here. Godspeed. To all those who “beg the question,” if all you are saying is that some event or thought raised a question, then the question is raised, not begged. Begging the question is a philosophical term applied to a line of reasoning in which the thing proposed is implied in the premise. It is a form of circular reasoning, where the “proof” offered is simply a restatement of the premise. Something like, “That movie is awful because it sucks.” Some have even suggested That Descartes’ famous, “Cogito, ergo sum,” or, in English, “I think; therefore, I am,” is a glorified example of begging the question. I was thinking about former friends, and it raised a question (but did not beg it) in my mind: Is there any such thing as a former friend? Farewell to Farrah. Who would have thought that the iconic beauty of the seventies would become a courageous inspiration to millions in the final, frustrating, painful year of her life? …And to Michael. Your life and death seemed to echo, if not answer, Jesus’ question: “What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”...

Yesterday marked the nineteenth Father’s Day since my Dad took a jarring, premature detour into eternity. I still miss him and often consider how different life might have been had he remained. I am sure I don’t think about that as much as Mom, but I think about it. He was a good dad…better than I realized, really. He was an even better husband. I am sure he would have been a wonderful grandfather. Fortunately, I had a backup Dad. Since Donya and I were still a year shy of leaving our teens when we married, her dad has been in my life for a long time. To him, I have always been a son, not just an inlaw. He has loved me as well as any man ever loved a son of flesh-and-blood. That flesh-and-blood feeling is mutual. Speaking of being a Dad, it shouldn’t be necessary for the president of the United States to tell men to be men and accept the responsibility of the seed they spread. I am glad he appears to be an excellent dad and is willing to be a role model in hopes of positively impacting the neanderthal, knuckle-headed, NBA wannabe, fun-baby producing morons who continue to decorate the American landscape with daddy-less babies. I hope it helps. But I doubt it. And now, a Dad joke: The room was full of...

What I do not overvalue I underestimate. I put that as my Facebook status this morning because the thought hit me like a subway train. I realized that much of what I am today – and where – could be explained by my either overvaluing or underestimating a thing or person. I never saw myself doing anything but full-time church/ministry work, but I lost that privilege because I underestimated my own propensity for stupid and selfish behavior. Even then, I assumed the day would come that I would return to it. Turns out, I underestimated AND overvalued a few things there. I recently saw a friendship I thought would last a lifetime disintegrate. I suppose I had overvalued it…and underestimated the toll my orneriness can take on a soul. Then I look around at this little handful of people who have every reason and right to scatter like rats from a sinking ship and yet they don’t (namely, my wife, her family, and my family), and realize I couldn’t possibly overvalue their love…though I might be guilty of underestimating it. I overvalued that Liberty University theology degree and underestimated how hard it is to switch horses in the middle of the stream. I have always and forever overvalued the unique deliciousness of a Dr Pepper and underestimated the impact its copious consumption can have on one’s physique. I probably...

Quirky is cool. Donya and I visited Gerty‘s, a little shop in one of those antique mall type settings (only this is not an antique mall; it is more of a collection of quirky shops, catering mostly to women), which Donya’s mom and three other ladies own. As I browsed the various shops while trying to keep my testosterone at an acceptable level (for these are girly places), it became obvious to me that some people are naturally quirky…and that’s cool. Others try a little too hard, stretch a little too far. They recognize the coolness of quirky, but they just don’t come by it naturally. Trying to be quirky in order to be cool just isn’t cool at all. I have been raising kids since I was a kid. Right now, they all live with us for various reasons. In two months, that will change. At least two of them will be gone…maybe forever. The house will be much quieter then. I won’t have to hold off a four year old with one foot, kick a soccer ball for him to chase with the other, all the while trying to keep my thoughts in order so I can write this column nobody will read. Yes, it will be quieter then. My own voice will be much more even-toned, I suspect. I will have to travel to Colorado or...